


Past Memories

by CumberDragon



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, hi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1375423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CumberDragon/pseuds/CumberDragon





	1. Unexpected

The air was frosty as it usually was shortly after dawn, the sharp icy wind blew her auburn hair into her eyes. She pulled her long green scarf over her face, covering her reddened nose. Shortly after waking from a nightmare that quite often plagued her sleep, lately she found the only way she could clear her mind was to go for a walk. The most popular choice she made was to go to the park. The park had been her place of refuge throughout the years in which she sought escape. Especially during her adult years, and after finding herself alone, escape from work and daily activities was something she yearned for often.

Due to the thoughts clouding her vision, she failed to keep an eye on where she was walking, she walked straight into an old man walking his dog. After apologizing to him over and over for her rudeness, she carried on with her early morning walk. Due to the disturbance to her thoughts, she concentrated her mind on the figure leaning against an old oak tree.

His face was covered with a dark blue hooded jacket, she wasn’t even sure if the figure was a he. Due to his masculine shape she decided it was most definitely a man. Although there are masculine females in the world.

"Balance the probability" she said aloud, but not loud enough for him to hear. She then realised she had been standing staring at the man for a good few minutes. She then continued in a brisk fashion as to hide her embarrassment.

Though she hated shopping with a passion, she made a detour to the super-market. Ever since she could remember, she had refused to go shopping, whether it was for food or clothes, it was something she had never enjoyed.

She wandered aimlessly around the super-market, picking the same things that she did every time she was there. This was a routine she had got herself into as to spend as little time there as was physically possible. As she was reaching for a carton of milk, she spotted him again out of the corner of her eye.

There was no doubt about it, it was the same man, the same dark jacket, and the same slightly bent over stature. Usually she was one for confronting her problems, but this was one she would rather walk away and forget about. However, she knew it was never going to be that simple. She quickly gathered the rest of her shopping and made her way to the check-out.

There was no doubt about it, for whatever reason, this man was following her.

After walking through the Park back to her apartment on the other side, she was lost deep in her own thoughts. A presence behind her brought her back to earth. She looked over her left shoulder, she really wished she hadn't. His head lifted slightly so she could see his heavily scarres face. His dark brown eyes showed a glint of glee at her terror. Her gaze shifted towards his hand, where she saw the distinct handle of a small knife.

The shopping in her left hand dropped to the floor as she sprinted for the closest exit.

She had always been a fast runner, ever since she was little; this had caused endless torment for her mother. Panic consumed her thoughts, all she could think was run, nothing else just run. She assessed the height of the closest tree, it was her only hope, she had to climb. She managed to get a firm grip on the lowest branch and pulled herself up.

The assassin attempted to follow, she lashed out brutally with her right foot. With the satisfying crunch that followed, she knew her foot had met its target. She used his face as a booster to push herself on to a higher branch. Keeping an even sense of gravity, she landed neatly on the highest branch. Her assailant did not dare follow, instead he stood there and glared at her with a bloody nose.

"I will get you for this, I swear to God, I will get you" He hissed as he wiped the blood from his nose. With that he turned and ran till he was just a speck in the distance.

Her hands were shaking as she dialled a number she had sworn she would never even think of ringing. She knew the person on the other end would answer, and so he did with the same sardonic tone that she remembered from their last meeting.

"Hello, little sister"

"Hello Sherlock" she replied through gritted teeth.


	2. Friendly Talk

An otherwise ordinary morning had completely descended into chaos, following that phone call. Why had she chosen now, out of five years of prolonged silence, she had chosen that moment to break it. Ordinary was not really a word associated with 221B Baker street, with all the strange things that happened there, ordinary was definitely not a word used to describe it.  
Sherlock stood with his back to the slightly open window, the warm early afternoon breeze ruffled his dark curly hair. His bright eyes stared blankly at the wall ahead. Mycroft was to the right of him, slightly red in the face from his previous outburst of anger. John hesitated and lingered in the door way for a moment, seeing Mycroft looking so flustered was never a good thing. For Mycroft to even look remotely flustered meant that something had happened that neither of them could cope with. What ever it was, John was sure that he would find out soon enough.  
With caution, he proceeded to enter the flat, giving both of them a glance as he walked through to make tea. Tea was definately his area of expertise, he knew in situations where nothing was being said, the best thing to do was to make a brew. John had never seen Sherlock so abnormal, normal for Sherlock was very different from most peoples normal, so for John to think that his best friend looked abnormal, it was very odd indeed.  
Katelyn had never been one for letting her true feelings be known, much like Sherlock she hid behind a mask of sarcasm and intelligence. This seemed to be very effective when getting out of a tight corner, however she knew it would not have the same effect on her older siblings. She was more alike them both than any of them realised.  
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, Sherlock" she said looking at the chair opposite the kitchen, where John was sat sipping tea.  
"John, this is Katelyn Holmes, my sister" Sherlock said with no emotion in his words.  
"Sister, you never said you had a sister" John said with a glint of a smile on his face.  
Katelyn was not doing so well as to hide the tears in her eyes, not once had he mentioned her name, for some reason this tore at her insides. She had not felt true emotion in a long time and it was such an unusual feeling she didnt know what to do.  
"Not once, not once did you even mention my name" She said, her voice breaking half way through the sentence.  
Sherlock looked at her, not believing the emotion in her voice was genuine, that was until he saw the tears trickling down her pale cheeks. He felt some kind of pang in his heart and he looked into her eyes and saw the likeness to her own. He still had doubts that this flash of feelings was a deceiving trick to get him to help her. Even if he was right he couldn’t help but thinking that it was true tears that were falling.


	3. Broken Shield

Katelyn flash back  
Her head was fuzzy and her eyes were not functioning properly, she tried to focus on her surroundings. The dark, damp walls came into focus first, she also made note of the boarded up window to her left. Her arms were weak and her legs weren't much use at all as they were chained together. Her wrists were sore from the rope that held them together. She was regaining her strength every second and her vision was also clearer. Limb by limb she started shifting around, assessing which body parts were strongest and of most use. From the searing pain that followed the movement of her right leg, she could tell it was most likely broken.   
She had no idea where she was or what she was doing there, this scared her more than anything, the feeling of not knowing.   
"Who are you, I know you're there" she shouted into the darkness, keeping her voice level and calm.   
"Don't be silly Katelyn, you know exactly who I am" the voice replied with an Irish twang.   
"Hello Moriarty, I love your house, it really captures a likeness" she sneered in his general direction.   
"I was rather hoping you would come quietly, how is your leg?" laughing in the physicotic way that he did.   
"It is fine" she smiled hiding her rage.   
The door to the cell swung open, creaking on its rusty hinges, allowing a muscular man to enter. His head was shaven and was covered in numerous hideous tattoos. His eyes were pitch black, if the man wasnt walking, he could be mistaken for dead. He wrenched her head forward and started to untie the knots holding her wrists together. She flexed her stiff wrists, moving them in circles as to bring back some feeling. During her time in the drug dens she had learnt a thing or two, in her eyes she was rather good at defending herself. He had undone the chains that bound her legs together. At the first opportunity that she found, she grabbed the loose chains and wrapped it around her hand and swung for the man’s face.   
The man flew backwards, straight into the blackened wall, he slid down it and landed in a heap at the bottom. Katelyn was surprised by her strength, dragging her leg behind she shuffled out of the door. Staring at the faces of many of those similar to the one that was unconscious in the room behind her. She didn’t know how she was going to get out of this one. Then it hit her, she bent down slowly, swinging the chain, in one swift movement she propelled the chain in a circles. The chain connected with each target sending each one in the opposite directions. As she sprinted down the adjacent corridor, she heard the familiar Irish tone behind her.   
"DON'T THINK THIS IS OVER!" it screamed.   
There was silence after she had finished recalling the events, everyone seemed to be taking it in, ticking over the details. Katelyn hadn't realised while she was talking, the tears were falling harder than ever, she was a wreck by the time she had fully voiced it. John shot her a look of genuine concern as she choked back the last few tears, she smiled weakly in an attempt to reply. She walked down the hallway where the bathroom was located and proceeded to shut the door behind her. How had she broken down like that, after many years of maintaining her stone shield, it took one meeting with her brothers to break that shield. They would no see her again as the weak little girl they had always seen her to be.  
After she felt that she could face the people in the room outside, she left the bathroom. Her hand were still shaking as John passed her a cup of tea. She thanked him and sat with her legs tucked up to her chest. She felt less vulnerable to attack when she curled herself up, it made her feel like a child and that for some reason in her mind, a sense of security. Whether it was a false sense of security she didn’t quite know but still it didn't really matter to her. She was completely lost in thought as her brothers started to question her. It took her a while to realise they were talking to her.  
"Katelyn, Katelyn are you listening to me?" Sherlock said a hint of annoyance in his voice, but also a hint worry was starting to surface as he continued.  
"What, yes sorry, what did you say" she said snapping from her trance.  
"Sherlock, she needs to rest, leave it for tomorrow" John said smiling at Katelyn.  
At least someone had picked up on the fact that she really couldn't be bothered with being quizzed on the details of the events that she had previously recalled. She needed sleep, her eyes were heavy and still stinging from the tears. She heard her brothers reluctantly agreeing to John's piece of advice as she made her way to the spare bedroom that John had given up for her to sleep in . She flopped down on the soft bed, instantly feeling some kind of relief as she shut her eyes and let the darkness take over.


	4. Battle Inside

Laid on the couch, his mind flicking through the details of the event that his little sister had put to him. His sleeve was rolled up to the crook of his elbow, and placed upon his fore-arm, were four patches. This was a desperate attempt to dampen the urge of smoking. The need for a cigarette was becoming unbearable. Swinging his legs round, stood up and stormed across the room making sure each footstep was louder than the last. This would have been Johns interpretation of a temper tantrum, as he so liked to put it, but this was Sherlock making a statement, a statement to show his need for cigarette.  
The skull he had acquired a few years before, contained a packet of the things he craved so desperately. This was in his eyes a fool proof plan, John had always been wary of the skull that stood so proudly upon the fireplace. He smiled at his genius and made his way towards the door.  
"Those things are going to kill you one day" Katelyn said, her voice happy and a smile on her face.  
"Want one Katelyn" He smirked in return to her comment.  
As young teenagers they were both smokers, endless times they had been caught by their mother outside smoking. It wasn’t the best habit they had picked up in their younger years, but it was the only way they could escape the hawk-like eyes of Mycroft.  
"of course" she laughed, looking at her brother properly for the first time since arriving at Baker Street. He face was still young and his cheek bones were as sharp as ever, his eyes looked tired and told a very different story from the rest of his face.  
The London air was sharp and icy as they went from the warmth of apartment to the outdoors. The street was empty apart from the odd taxi driving to or from their destinations. Taking in the wonders of London, she hadn’t realised Sherlock was watching her through narrowed eyes. At that moment, their eyes connected, they both thought that maybe the feelings they felt for each other weren’t entirely based on hate. The cold air was making her shiver, without a word; Sherlock removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders.  
"I have missed you Katelyn" Sherlock said, eyes fixed on a point across the street.  
Sherlock wasn’t the kind of person to make an emotional sentiment, so taking this in she savoured every second.  
"I have got to say, I have missed taking the piss out you" she said, trying to contain the laughter that was bubbling up inside her chest.  
She definitely missed this, actually having someone to talk to was a rarity for her. She knew this moment was going to be over soon, so she took this opportunity to speak her feelings.  
"I really have missed you Sherlock" her words finally voicing the true feelings she felt inside.  
She slept better that night, free from the recurring nightmare, better than she had done for the past five years. She woke in the morning feeling completely refreshed, ready for anything the day could fire at her. Sitting down to a wonderful cup of tea, she had a certain happiness in her soul that she had not felt for a very long time. Watching Jeremy Kyle was one habit she had picked up, a rather annoying habit really, as she knew the facts before they did.  
"For god sake, he is obviously not the child’s father, isn't it obvious?!" she half shouted and half sighed at the television.  
John was shocked by the likeness that had been captured between the two siblings. Despite the obvious difference in hair colour, their mannerisms and the way they spoke was uncanny. They probably didn’t want to admit it, but they were more alike than both of them wanted to admit.  
Angrily switching off the television, she laid back, shut her eyes, and let herself descend into her turbulent thoughts. Was she right to have involved her brothers in her own affairs. She had never contacted her brothers before, was it her reaching out as a result of being alone for so long. She didn’t know, it was like a battle raging inside her mind, a battle she was struggling to control.  
A chime in her pocket snapped her away from the torment, only to reawaken her to a new one.  
"Don't think your brothers can save you now - JM" she read in a hushed voice.  
This was one battle she knew she couldn’t face alone.


	5. Failure

5 Years before …  
An abandoned car park was her place of choice for the location of the task she was about to carry out, two tall buildings towered over the scene, hopefully this was enough to prevent any. Her hands were shaking profusely as she ran the handle of the knife over her gloved fingers. She had no idea what has made him ask her to do such a thing, this was very different to the things she had been asked to do in the past working for Moriarty. 

It was a fairly simple trap; it was hard to think that someone with such high intelligence would even fall for it. She knew better than anyone what he was like and could pretty much predict his every move, maybe this was the reason she had been asked rather than someone else. Maybe mental skill was the key to this task, rather than someone that could yield a blade better than her or have better aim with a firearm, even though she was pretty handy with a gun. The body was strategically placed at the centre of the crumbling tarmac, the arms and legs had been tied, it was pretty easy to work out it was probably and capture gone wrong and the body had been dumped. That was what she had hoped would go through his mind as he examined the body. 

He was bent over the body, staring at it; she knew that he was examining every single part of its being as to find a cause of death and what had happened. By now he had pretty much figured out what was happening. A sudden flash of panic spread across his face, causing his eye brows to crinkle slightly as his eyes darted around the car park. His head turned to look at the body on the ground, at that exact moment, an arm grabbed him by the throat. The rising panic surged throughout his body as she brought the knife to his throat. 

“I can help you, whatever is it, I can help” he choked as she tightened her grip. 

“I seriously doubt it, I will try and make this quick” She said through gritted teeth. 

“Katelyn, I can help you” he said, his voice more calm and collected than before. 

She released her grip and took a step away and stared at him, was it really that obvious it was her, he had not seen her many years how could he have possibly have known it was her. 

“How did you know” she whispered

 

“You really think I wouldn’t have recognised you, you really do surprise me with your stupidity sometimes little sister, this is a pretty simple set up don’t you think, I thought even you could have come up with something a little more original, I have obviously over estimated you intelligence” he sneered. 

She just stared blankly at him, hiding the tears that were welling up, how could he call her stupid, he had turned up there and was examining the body, and she hated him for the constant act he was playing at that moment. The cold sarcastic tone had topped the whole thing off and was causing anger she had not felt in many years to well up inside her. 

“Don’t Sherlock, I have to kill you” she said sharply to hide the emotion in her voice. 

The whole time they had been talking, they were unaware that they were being watched. The assassin was waiting, knowing that Katelyn would be incapable of carrying out the task that she been set. It was time for them to make their move. 

“You disappoint me Katelyn, I set you a simple task and you could even do it” the Irish tone said in the stillness. 

“GET OUT OF HERE, NOW!” He bellowed, the rage finally showing through his usually calm manor. 

 

The whole scene had replayed in her head as she read the text he had just sent her. Her previous failure had caused him a great deal of embarrassment, and along with that embarrassment came anger. The anger was strong, stronger than she ever thought, revenge was surely to follow. A statement that was very fitting the situation. . .   
Revenge is best served cold.


	6. Inconvenience

Katelyn was sat on the sofa against the wall, legs tucked up to her chest; she felt a sense of security that helped to put her mind at ease so that she could think of what she was going to do. She hadn’t mentioned anything to her brothers in the time since the text - she thought it best not to involve them in things that were her doing. She had been in many sticky situations in her time; if she treated this one like the times in the past then she could surely get out of it.   
Sherlock was sat in his chair near the fire place, hands together under his chin, his mind ticking over an invisible puzzle. John was sat across from him with his legs crossed and his phone in close proximity to his face. She had had enough of Sherlock going crazy with the lack of cases, she had never seen her brother so restless in the time she had been living there. Today he was fairly calm and had sat in that chair most of the morning, unnervingly silent. His phone chimed, he snapped out of his puzzle solving and reached into his pocket and took it out.   
“Ohh, decapitation, yes finally a case, come on John, don’t just sit there, let’s go!” he said excitedly, jumping up from his chair. 

By the time John had even realised, Sherlock had already put on his coat and was half way through the door. He looked over at Katelyn who was still sat with her legs tucked up on the sofa, apparently in some kind of daze. 

“Are you not coming Katelyn?” 

Her head snapped round to look at her brother, utterly bemused at his request, he had never asked her to go on a case before. A smile broke out across her face and she jumped up off the sofa, nearly falling in the process, she grabbed her coat and was out the door in a split second. 

Sat in the back of the cab, she could not stop smiling, she was so excited and full of energy, she felt like a child on their way to a theme park. Sherlock had obviously noticed her excitement and looked over to her around John who was sat, rather squashed between them. 

“Why are you so excited, you are going to see a corpse?” He tried to say seriously, but she could hear the hint of amusement in his voice.   
“I have no idea, I have never been with you on a case before” she laughed, smiling even more. 

The man was of a large build, his hair was short and brown, and his face was disfigured with cuts and grazes. The head was around three feet away from the body. All the smiles and amusement was gone and was replaced with a feeling of despondency. He did not know the man, but she did know from what Lestrade had been telling Sherlock. 

“Derek Smith, 35, worked alongside one of the most notorious drug lords in London, wife is being picked up now, what do you think?” 

Sherlock was leaning close to the body, magnifying glass in hand; he examined every inch of the body and picked up on everything of importance. 

“Several of his ribs are broken- his fingers are too, his arms, legs and torso are covered in bruises…” he said his voice trailing off towards the end as he looked towards Katelyn. 

Katelyn squealed as a man in black grabbed her from behind, wrapping his tattooed arm around her neck, the squeal turned into a choke as his grip tightened. 

“Get into the car my lovely and no one gets hurt.” he said, his face was so close to her she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. 

John already had is gun pointed directly at the man’s head, his eyes darting between Katelyn and the attacker.

“Let her go, or I will shoot you.” he warned him as calmly as he possibly could.

Katelyn was kicking at the man, attempting to disable him by getting a firmly positioned blow to his nether regions. The assailant struggled against her, his face contorting from aggression to a look of panic and puzzlement, as it became clear that he was considering his options. For a moment, it seemed that he had a spark of an idea, but looking towards John he seemed to realise quickly that this was clearly not an option. 

He threw her down with a force that suggested that he wanted to cause as much damage as he possibly could, as she fell she extended her arm to break her fall, which resulted in a sickening crack as the bone in her arm visibly gained a subtle bend. Simultaneously the car door slammed, and the engine revved to life, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake as it sped off down the road. 

John placed his gun back into the inside pocket of his jacket as he ran over to her, she was shaking with adrenalin, propped up on the elbow of her damaged arm. John lifted her supporting her weight, as he did so he noticed the warm moisture beginning to seep through his fingers. He knew that the injury was beyond the tools that he had available. 

“Call an ambulance, she’s been stabbed.”

Sherlock entered the waiting room of the hospital just as John exited the room on the far side. John had stayed there the entire time she had been in surgery; Sherlock however, had been off solving the case. 

“She’s out of surgery and is sleeping now.” John said, ruffling his hair.

“I hate hospitals, they are so full of disease and people whining.” he said, ignoring John’s previous statement. 

“Stop complaining Sherlock, your sister has just been stabbed.” 

“That does not change the fact that I dislike hospitals, does it John?” Sherlock replied sounding more and more like a sulking child. 

John walked back across the waiting area to the room from which he had just left, Sherlock trailing behind him. John could tell that Sherlock’s problem was not just with the hospital, but right now he didn’t really care what his problem was. 

Katelyn was no longer asleep, she was reading through the paper that had been placed on the table beside her bed. The pain in her back and arm had subsided somewhat, though every now and then the pain would peak. As soon as Sherlock entered the room behind John, she knew that something was wrong; it was a futile effort even trying to find out what it was. The tension in the room was like a heavy cloud that had descended over them, John was sat staring out of the window, whilst Sherlock was texting rapidly on his phone. 

“Isn’t this fun.” She said sarcastically, breaking the silence. 

“Fun, is not the word I would use to describe being stabbed in the back Katelyn, painful maybe and most definitely a hindrance to this investigation” Sherlock sighed.

“Oh sorry, I will try next time to get stabbed when it most convenient for you!” she snapped. 

During their childhood they had argued constantly, mostly over little things that had no significance, this had been a relentless problem for both their parents and Mycroft. 

“Oh stop it you two, this is pathetic, this is not a playground, it’s a bloody hospital!” John broke into the dispute. 

The next few days were a complete nightmare for John as he found his time was mostly taken up settling disagreements between Katelyn and Sherlock. Katelyn spent most of her time in her room, but whenever she left the confines of that room, Sherlock found some excuse to start some sort of problem. They ranged from how long she had been in her room, to why Sherlock was conducting such strange experiments. He knew this was not going to get any easier, as he knew how reluctant they both were to accept responsibility and admit that they are wrong.   
One day they were going to have to accept that they were wrong, all John could do was sit and wait for this day to come.


	8. Coffee With a Doctor

All she wanted to do was sleep, for the past four hours all she could do was stare at the ceiling.   
"For God sake!" She muttered, as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stumbled across the room and down the hallway. 

She found Sherlock sat at his desk reading through the latest addition to John's blog. They had just solved the case of the decapitation, he had even written the details of her getting stabbed. She subconsciously rubbed the scar located at the centre of her back. 

"Shouldn't you be sleeping Katelyn?" 

"Couldn't sleep, might as well do something useful." 

"What are you doing standing there for then?" 

At that moment, she took the opportunity to go into the kitchen to make tea, she didn't know if this classed as being useful but it definitely worked for most situations. 

Early morning television was such a bore that she went for a walk. The air was surprisingly warm for a December morning, there was a slight breeze, but not a particularly cold one. Most of the shops were shut, except for a small off license on the corner of the street. 

The shop-keeper was strangely cheery for such an early hours. She couldn't remember the last time she had treated herself to a chocolate bar, but that added to the enjoyment of eating it. As she walked through the park, she couldn't help but feel oddly elated . A man was laying on a park bench, his face turned to in the direction of the rising Sun. The light illuminated his features, showing the deep crevices on his unshaven face. He almost looked pathetic and she couldn't help but feel pity for him. She reached into her pocket,feeling a pang of guilt for buying her snack, and pulled out a two pound coin and dropped it into the empty metal tin. 

Just as she was exiting the park, she turned to see the old man staring into the tin, like a child at Christmas, he grinned and giggled. Due to this, she was not fully paying attention to the road ahead and stepped out straight into the path of a cyclist. They collided with a shocking amount of force, the first thing she knew, she was flying side ways across the path. 

She woke lying on her side, one arm on her side, the other sprawled out onto the road. She felt a hand on her shoulder that shook her from her trance. 

"Woahh" she blurted out in alarm. 

"It's okay, you came out of no where, I am so sorry" the man said, fumbling slightly with his words. 

She sat up with the aid of the kind man supporting her back, her head was fuzzy and she was aware of a throbbing eliminating from the back of her head. She reached her sore, badly grazed hand to the spot and immediately found a protruding lump. 

"I have a first aid kit in my bag,let me look I am a Doctor."

How Ironic she thought, being knocked over by a Doctor, she had to laugh. The man shot her a look, and tilted his head to the side, utterly bemused. 

"I was just thinking about how ironic this is." She smiled.

He moved back to her side, still smiling, he then proceeded to shine a light into her eyes and ask her questions. 

"What's your name?" 

"Katelyn Holmes, what's yours?"

"Jason Hudson, that's good, you only have a mild concussion." 

He then took out a bandage and wrapped it carefully around her badly grazed hand. 

"I think that's all you patched up, now go and get some rest." Jason said in a knowing tone. 

She stood up nervously,and looked back at the floor and turned to walk away, but she turned back at the last second and smiled. 

"Thank you Doctor Jason Hudson." She said, again suppressing a laugh. 

She was rather shocked by his response to her statement. 

"I don't start work for another couple of hours, do you fancy a coffee?" 

"Oh, erm, that sounds lovely, where?" 

"Lovely little cafe on Baker Street, do you know the place?" 

" I most certainly do, they should be open." 

They sat for the best part of an hour chatting about seemingly random things, about where he worked and recent patients he had treated. 

"Enough about me, what about you?" 

As soon as he said that, her mind ran through her past trying to find one moment she could safely tell him. She had never been comfortable with telling anyone her past, never mind a person she had just met. Luckily for her, Sherlock chose that moment to message her. 

"Baker Street now, if convenient SH." 

Followed about a minute later by another message. 

"If inconvenient come anyway SH." 

"I am really sorry, I have to go, thank you for everything." She said handing over a scrap of paper that had her number written on it . 

"Okay, I was good meeting you Katelyn, even if it was under these circumstances." He replied with a smile on his face.


End file.
